tearing us asunder
by Captain Silence
Summary: Emily Burke is given an ultimatum: say goodbye or lose her status. What should be an easy choice won't stop eating her up inside. When a mission boils down to another choice, how will she react?
1. so much hate for the ones we love

**A/N: Welcome to the second installment in my on-going post-Catalyst stories! This one is going to be a bit longer (aiming for three parts) and is also based somewhat on the song "Running Up That Hill" originally by Emily Bush if I'm remembering correctly. For the full effect, listen to the version either by Track and Field or Within Temptation's version, which is what I listened to on repeat while typing this. If you're familiar with the song, you'll realize I used lyrics as the story name and as well as the name of the first part. I don't own the lyrics, just using them.**

 **As always, I do not own these characters and please read and review!**

* * *

 **TITLE: tearing us asunder (part 1 of 3)**

 **FEATURING: Emily Burke, Thomas Hickey, Nukilik**

 **WHEN: Month + a week and a half after the last events of Catalyst**

 **RATING: This part contains strong language**

 **SUMMARY: Emily Burke is given an ultimatum: say goodbye or lose her status. What should be an easy choice won't stop eating her up inside. When a mission boils down to another choice, how will she react?**

* * *

 **tearing us asunder**

PART ONE: so much hate for the ones we love

Emily Burke was on the run. She'd fucked up quite badly and now she was paying the price. She didn't even have blood on her hands yet and her heart was racing in her chest. She didn't even think she had the courage to take a look over her shoulders, she was running too fast and she didn't trust herself not to run into something, as skilled an Assassin as she was. Though, she took the chance and gave a quick look and swore under her breath, yanking her head around.

They were closer than she'd thought. She took a flying leap and dug her hands into the side of the building - her mostly healed leg protested at the treatment it was receiving -, hauling herself up. She dashed across the rooftop, footsteps precise and professional. She leaped across the gap between two buildings and kept up her pace, pushing herself just a bit faster. She could do this. She wasn't going to fail this mission yet, she'd lose them and they'd she'd ambush them.

"Them" being a small gang that had been hell bent on avenging Claire Scott. See, they'd turned up about a week and a half ago and Haytham Kenway had been going off about them and she'd finally grown tired of his mutterings and taken up the mission. Despite Haytham being in the process of drawing his time as Grandmaster to a close, he still made most of the calls. Now and then, Connor got a word in but the Templar Order still answered most faithfully to the elder Kenway.

It was a strange world that Emily Burke now found herself living in. Although they didn't correspond on everything, the Templar Order and the Assassin Brotherhood were on decent enough terms. Of course, they still had their differing opinions, but somewhere along the way they'd found middle ground. They'd shared a common enemy, and neither seemed two into the idea of turning against each other again, though the alliance was shaky, poised to shatter at any point in time. As far as Emily was concerned, she was going to take total advantage of the situation. Thomas Hickey, although a drunkard Templar, was a decent man and she found that she enjoyed the time she spent with him more than she figured she ought to.

Emily leaped across another gap, rolling across the roof and sliding off the edge, grabbing the gutter at the last moment, allowing herself to hang. She quieted her breathing and listened for feet. As they came she prepared herself, then sprung the trap her prey had unknowingly walked into.

She leaped onto the building, swinging out her leg. She caught one by surprise, throwing his bulk to the ground. She was on him in moments, her blade slicing across his neck. A dying gurgle choked in his throat as his life's blood sprayed across her feminine hands. She rolled to the right, used to the feel of warm blood between her fingers. She came up in a crouch, somersaulting forward and plunged her knife into another gang member's stomach, tearing it out in another spray of gore. She straightened, spinning to face the final two attackers. They squared their shoulders and she broke into a sprint. She leaped at the last moment, slammed her heel into the face of the unsuspecting woman to the right and swung at the burly main to her left. He grabbed a hold of her ankle as she tried to clear the jump and slammed her into the roof before him.

Emily let out an involuntary cry, kicking out violently. He lost his grip at her sudden attack and she staggered to her feet, clutching at her bruised - if not broken - rib cage. He squared himself up with a growl as she faced him, panting. "Bring it on, bastard," she snarled through clenched teeth and he ran at her. She crouched to spring, and then a shot rang out and he froze in his drags. A scarlet rose blossomed from his chest and he fell face first into the ground. She watched his body slide to the edge of the roof and topple into the streets of Boston below.

Glancing up, she met the eyes of her savior: Nukilik, mentor of the Colonial Brotherhood. She gave an awkward half wave, still clutching her side. He made her way towards her, and she couldn't help but cringe at the judgment in the tilt of his brows. He wore his usual Assassin robes, adorned with furs that were white in color. At his head perched his tricorne hat, though it was different than the ones Haytham and Connor wore. It was thicker, and Emily suspected that was because it looked as though it was made of the same fur his robes were.

"We need to talk," said Nukilik, giving her a once over, "about your behavior."

Emily made an exaggerated sound in the back of her throat. She didn't deserve this right now. Her ribs were probably broken and her leg was an aching pile of shit. "Mentor," she muttered, "any other time would be great, but right now, I'm hurting… can't it wait?" She favored him with a sweet grin but Nukilik's glare didn't soften, if anything it hardened. She grumbled. "What is it?" She demanded, crossing her arms, trying to look as impatient as she could while keeping the pain from her eyes.

"Your relationship with Thomas Hickey has gone too far," replied Nukilik with a tone of steel.

She recoiled from him as though he'd slapped her. Of course both Orders were aware of how close the two had gotten, but she hadn't been aware that Nukilik knew _how close_ they'd gotten. Indignant, she narrowed her eyes. "What're you," she grumbled, "my father?"

That, obviously, was not the correct response for Nukilik grabbed her collar. "Listen to me, Emily. I may not be directly related to you in anyway, but you are a part of _my_ Brotherhood and you are under _my_ order. Hickey is _a Templar_ -"

"Yes," snapped Emily, brushing away his hold, "I'm quite aware of that fact. And I'm an Assassin. Times are changing, Nukilik. We're not at war anymore. Not with the Kenways and not with Hickey."

Nukilik snarled. "If you don't heed my warning, Emily Burke, there will be consequences and you won't like them very much," he pointed an accusing finger at her. "End your relationship with Hickey, or I will be forced to act." Then he left. He just left her there upon the roof of some random Bostonian building.

Emily ran a hand through her hair and huffed. By god, what the hell was she going to tell Hickey?

* * *

Hickey was snoring. He was sprawled out across the couch in the corner of the Green Dragon Tavern and Inn. He wasn't dreaming, he was just snoring, completely at peace with the way he was. Though, he wouldn't have minded some company. Particularly the company of a blonde Assassin by the name of Emily Burke. He quite liked her company, and he knew she enjoyed his. Their nights were particularly nice. Had he been dreaming, that's what he would have been dreaming of.

Though, had he been dreaming it would have ended abruptly as the couch he was dozing on was unceremoniously kicked backwards against the wall, jolting him from his slumber. "Wha' t'bloody hell!?" He crowed groggily, jumping into sitting position. Though when he saw Emily standing a few feet in front of him, he relaxed, leaning back against the cushions. "G'afternoon, there Burke," he grinned swavely. Then he noticed her expression and his grin faded. "Emmy?" He stood up.

She was covered in blood. She was _always_ covered in blood, though she usually looked triumphant when she was covered in blood. Now she just looked downright miserable. "Need a pint?" he asked, looking her up and down, making a move towards the counter. "Few bandages, nice lil visit ta the bedroom'll cheer ya right up." He winked, but her expression didn't change. He crossed his arms and shook his head. "Don' know what got inta ya," he said, narrowing his arms. "Not yer usual self."

Emily sighed and wrung out her hands and he almost snorted. Was she nervous about something? He shook his head. Emily Burke didn't get nervous. Though she sure as hell did look it.

"We have to stop," she said, looking him in the eyes.

He frowned. "Eh, stop what?" He blinked, waving a hand for her to clarify. Perhaps he was being daft but he honestly didn't have a clue what they were stopping. They weren't exactly currently doing anything.

She sighed and gestured between them. "This… _Us._ "

Hickey barked out a laugh. "What's gotten into ya, hm?" He made a move towards her, but she stepped away and he froze. "Emmy?"

She shook her head. "No." She shook it again and said it again: "No."

He reached for her and this time she let him grab her shoulders. "Emmy?"

She looked up at him and her eyes hardened. She shoved him away from her. "Don't touch me, alright? Just leave me the _fuck_ alone. I don't want you and I sure as hell don't want this. So, just stop." Her emotions were eating her words, each other more and more strained. The last word she said was the worst. It was so constricted that Thomas hardly knew what she was saying, but he heard it. Heard the desperation in her voice, heard the way it caught.

" _Please._ "

Thomas stepped away from her and put his hands in his pockets. "Sure. If it's what'cha want." She nodded and then he nodded. Then she was gone. She stepped back and then spun on her heel and raced out of the inn. The door hadn't had time to close before Hickey was at the bar, pint in hand. He glanced at the way she'd gone and then at the pint and he downed it all and slammed it against the bar, cursing to himself.

He couldn't be sure, but he could have sworn he heard something that sounded like a sob before she left. He figured he'd never know for sure.


	2. there's a thunder in our hearts, baby

**A/N: Welcome back to 'tearing us asunder'! This one's a bit shorter than the other one, but still over 1,000 words. This is sort of a filler between the first chapter and the third chapter. It's setting up what's to come. I'm trying to determine if there will be only three chapters like I'd first thought. At the moment, I'm not sure. At the moment, all I know is that I'm tired and I'm going to bed as soon as I put this up.**

* * *

 **TITLE: tearing us asunder (part 2 of 3)**

 **FEATURING: Emily Burke, Thomas Hickey, Nukilik**

 **WHEN: Day or two after the last part**

 **RATING: K+. Nothing bad in this one, 'cept one big curse at the end.**

 **SUMMARY: Emily Burke is given an ultimatum: say goodbye or lose her status. What should be an easy choice won't stop eating her up inside. When a mission boils down to another choice, how will she react?**

* * *

 **2\. there's a thunder in our hearts, baby**

Nukilik was silent; he sat brooding outside the Green Dragon, the base of their operations. He'd just come for a heated discussion detailing what was to be done about the two Orders. Haytham, though exhausted and still slightly bruised from his encounters with his niece, was still calling the shots. While his son was quite adamant on keeping the Orders in their new found unity, Haytham was perfectly content with letting them once again drift apart. Nukilik had agreed with the Grandmaster. Though, their shared opinion had been shot down by three voices: Connor, Hickey and Emily. Several others had voiced their own various opinions, but Nukilik could have cared less.

He expected more from Emily. She was once one of his best Assassins, but ever since her new found romance with drunkard Thomas Hickey, the missions she took for the Assassins became few and far between. She'd even gone as far as to completely ignore missions she was given, instead pawning them off to Fillian or William. She'd go and spend time with Thomas; Nukilik had seen them, laughing away their cares. And watching them, Nukilik wondered what they saw in each other.

Although a talented Assassin, Emily was far from pretty, with her scraggly blonde hair, pulled back most of the time into a messy horse tail and sharp angles. She had a mouth on her, one that she wasn't afraid to use when she wasn't being agreed with. She was fiery in temper and in spirit and although she was honest, she was an open book. Nukilik had learned how to read her the day he met her.

And Thomas? Nukilik had decided the man had no redeeming qualities. The Templar was a swaggering drunkard who would sleep with anything that moved. And in addition to that, he couldn't even speak English right, combining words and whatnot. If that wasn't enough, the man was just completely intolerable in every way shape and form. Nukilik was quite sure that Charles Lee would have agreed with him, had the former Templar not been dead.

The Mentor rubbed a hand across his face and turned back towards the inn as the door slammed open and Emily Burke stalked out. He grabbed her arm. "I have a mission for you," he said sternly, his eyes narrowing as she snatched her arm back from him.

"Tell it to my ass," she spat, turning on her heel. He once again grabbed hold of her and she rammed her knee up but he caught it and slammed her against a post, holding her arms behind her. "Let go of me," she snarled through clenched teeth, struggling to get away from his iron grip.

Nukilik shook his head. "You're going on this mission, Burke. General Ethan Sampson was an Assassin. When his family was killed, he blamed the Brotherhood and walked out. We lost track of him years ago, but now he's back and if he finds out that we're still in existence, he will kill us all. I want you to find him, and I want you to kill him." He watched her face, an idea forming in his brain.

Emily shoved him away, cheeks flushing with anger in the cold air. "Why should I, Nukilik?" she snapped. "Why should I take this mission from you?" Her knuckles were white from clenching them so hard and he could practically see steam rolling out of her ears. He knew that he was walking on very thin ice, one wrong move could get him more than just one black eye.

The Inuit Assassin crossed his arms. "Because if you do, I'll make a deal with you." He knew that he had her attention now, even though she continued to watch him with distrust. "As long as you remain loyal to the Assassin cause, I will retract my former words. You'll be allowed to continue your relationship with Hickey. But this is only if you succeed." He watched the expression change on her from irritation to thoughtfulness and finally to resignation. He had her.

She nodded. "Tell me what I need to do."

* * *

That night was a cold one. Her breath rose in curtains of white in the frosted air as she trekked away from the inn. Her pack slammed against her back as she made her way towards the stables to get a horse. The night would be better suited to her needs for this mission, as would the companionship of a horse. She was just entering the stable and grabbing a saddle when the scuff of boots on the ground behind her stopped her cold. Though, when the boots came closer, she could smell alcohol and something within her relaxed and it just relaxed further when the voice of Thomas Hickey washed over her:

"Ya ran out real quick last time. What's eatin' ya?"

He was right behind her so she turned, looking up at him. She wanted to say a million things. She wanted to tell him about the deal she made with Nukilik, she just had to succeed and kill Ethan Sampson, Assassin traitor. She didn't say it though. She just shook her head and stepped away from him. "Don't worry about it, Hickey," she said, grabbing the saddle and putting it on her horse. "It'll all be alright in a few weeks time."

Thomas took hold of her shoulders and turned her towards him. Their eyes met and it all came out. Every word. How Nukilik had forbidden her to speak with him, how she was terrified that if her mentor caught them together then he'd kill Thomas, how he'd promised to let them be if she only killed the general. By the end of it, she was breathing heavy from confessing it all in one breath and Hickey's face was a mask.

"General Ethan Sampson?" he said, and the cold concern in his words sent a chill through Emily's blood. She nodded and he swore under his breath, shaking his head. She prompted him and he shook his head again, running a hand through his short hair. "That man ain't nothin' but a bloody monster, Emmy," he said, brows drawing together. "Don't you even think 'bout goin' afta 'im. Y'hear?"

Emily sighed through her teeth. "Thomas," she breathed, leaning her head against his forehead, "I don't have a choice." His breath tickled her cheeks as he tried to say something, but she pressed a finger to his lips. "You can't change my mind, try all you'd like, but you can't. My mind's made up… Monster or not, General Sampson is dying by my hand." She stepped back, placing a hand at his cheek. "Please, do not come after me. That's all I ask. I'll come back when it's through, just don't follow me." She went to the horse and cinched up the saddle. She positioned her bag, all the while progressively not meeting his eyes.

"Em-" he tried as she swung herself into the saddle. She shook her head, grabbing his hand as he placed it at her stallion's neck. She squeezed his hand and tried to smile through the terror strangling her alive. As she tried to go, he pulled her off the horse and embraced her, holding her close to his chest. "Ya betta' be careful, y'hear?"

She leaned into his chest, breathing in his scent as she nodded. "Promise." She leaned back and kissed him passionately, cupping the side of his face as she did so. Something felt wrong about the kiss. There was a nagging sense in the back of her brain that this would be the last time they kissed, that she would not see him again. She pushed it away, deeming it nothing more than paranoia as she untangled herself from him and once more mounted her horse. This time, he let her go, standing in the doorway of the stable as she cantered away down the moonlit streets of Boston. As he watched her, a rage boiled in the pit of Thomas Hickey's stomach and he swore that if Emily did not make it home that he'd slaughter Nukilik. Then, he wandered off back towards the inn.

He needed a drink. Actually, he needed several drinks. Fuck. He turned and looked after Emily's retreating horse, or tried to. He couldn't see it anymore. He raced to the stables and saddled his own horse and went on after her.

Most of all, he needed Emily Burke.


	3. if only I could, make a deal with God

**A/N: Here's the final part of this little story I thought up! Please enjoy! As always, I do not own _Assassin's Creed_. **

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**TITLE: tearing us asunder (part 3 of 3)**

 **FEATURING: Emily Burke, Ethan Sampson, Thomas Hickey, Nukilik, Connor Kenway, Haytham Kenway**

 **WHEN: within hours of the last part**

 **RATING: K+, some cursing + violence**

 **SUMMARY:** **Emily Burke is given an ultimatum: say goodbye or lose her status. What should be an easy choice won't stop eating her up inside. When a mission boils down to another choice, how will she react?**

* * *

 **3\. if only I could, make a deal with God and get him to swap our places**

New York was silent beneath the last twinkling starlights when Emily rode in on her stallion. The night was nearly through and the sun was about an hour away from rising and spreading its golden cast across the city. Her body was tired, though she didn't have time to rest, she needed to get in, get the job done and then get back to Hickey before he drank himself to death.

She stopped her thoroughbred alongside a tree and dismounted, tying the reins to the tree branch. She patted his shoulder before pulling her tricorne further onto her head, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders and stirring in the wind. She routinely checked her pouch for extra bullets and then glanced at her hidden blades. She flourished her wrists with practiced precision, watching as they leaped forth from the gauntlets, slicing the air dangerously. She nodded and flipped them back into their sheaths before slinging her musket over her shoulder and taking to the trees.

She scrambled up into the branches, the colorful fall leaves brushing against her cheeks and snagging in her hair. She broke into a jog, moving through the trees as though she was born among the leaves. She picked up her pace, as she neared her launching point. She leaped not a moment too soon, her knees up at her stomach and feet outstretched. For a moment, she was weightless, suspended in air with nothing but the wind blowing through her hair. Then she landed; a whole lot heavier than she'd planned. The impact jarred her bones from her ankles up to her knees as she dipped into a roll, coming up in a catlike crouch.

Pausing, the poised assassin listened with the ears of a predator. When no one came running from the building screaming that they were being robbed, she uncurled from her crouch, tilting her brown tricorne back into place.

Ducking down on the rooftop, Emily blinked twice, allowing her Eagle Vision to flood her senses. She surveyed her surroundings, trying to pick out her target, the one that was sure to be glowing bright amongst the grey of the vision. Her face creased with a frown as her eyes flittered back and forth through the area. Where was he? She turned to her right, checking out the building next to her. "Gotcha," she breathed, the outline of her man lighting up. She blinked and her vision returned to normal.

She stood up and quickly and quietly moved to the next building over. She climbed up, making sure not to disturb the shingling on the roof. She took a deep breath, creeping over the rooftop towards the open window the far side of the building. As she neared her entry point, Emily blinked her vision back into that of an eagle. She glanced downwards into the building. He was on the first floor. Good, that gave her time to either hide in the second or make her way down to him. She blinked the vision away and moved to the edge of the building. She turned, dropped and grabbed the edge of the building. She swung her legs forward through the open window, following the rest of her body in and dropping into a crouch, listening. Her boots had made contact with a soft thump, though there were no sounds of hurried footsteps.

She crept towards the staircase, keeping low to the ground. She was so close, she just had to get down those stairs and slam her blade into his jugular. Then she was done, then she could go home and make it right with Hickey, Nukilik be damned. This was her life and if she wished to spend it with that drunkard bastard, then she would.

She reached the staircase and paused, once again listening for sounds on the first floor. She was just about to slink down the stairs when the front door opened, bringing with it a gust of chilled air. She scuttled backwards, though the redcoat who entered didn't move towards the stairs, but instead towards her target.

"Sir," he said in a voice that was all duty, back stiff as a board, "our scouts found a horse tethered to the trees not a mile from here."

 _Shit,_ thought Emily. _I should have known better, dammit._ She cursed herself again and again. Oh, thank god Nukilik wasn't there to see her now. He'd scold her for how careless she'd become. He'd accuse her mind of being on Hickey, and he would have been right. She was too focused on how she could make things better between the two of them rather than the mission at hand.

Maybe this relationship _was_ bad for her.

She heard the cool voice of General Ethan Sampson from the other side of the room, "I'll take care of it, thank you major." The major saluted stiffly and turned to leave. "Major," Sampson spoke up again, causing the younger man to look back over his shoulder. "No one leaves or enters this campground without signed authorization from myself. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," said the major, snapping another salute before exited out the door, bringing in another gust of wintery air.

When the door closed, she heard the shuffle of feet and her heart leaped into her throat. Though the words that fell across the now chilled air froze the blood in her veins. "I know you're here, assassin. You're out of practice, I would have heard you entering from a mile away. Come out, assassin, there's no use hiding anymore."

Emily took a deep breath and sprang into action. She threw herself down the stairs, and fell into a roll. She landed and used her momentum to leap at Sampson, who pulled his knife with a flourish. She knocked into him at full speed, his knife plunging through her shoulder, causing her to scream. They landed in a heap and he kicked her off him, his boots in her gut pushing the air from her lungs. She stumbled backwards, sputtering, with one hand tight against her shoulder. Her knuckles stung and when she glanced up at him she saw why.

His nose was crooked and blood was gushing steadily from it. He spat a clot to the ground, watching her with a sneer. "You don't really know why you're here do you?" He sneered, circling her like an animal. He was a tall man, much taller than her, and build like a rock. His shoulders were broad and his features were sharp and full of angles. His nose, now crooked, was too big for his face and his eyes, a dark amber, were too far away for anyone to call him attractive. His hair was greying about the ears though most was still dark brown, only peppered with age.

"I'm here to kill you," she snarled, her chest heaving. She glanced briefly at her wound, putting more pressure. She hissed as the blood seeped up between her fingers, staining her skin the red of her own blood.

Sampson chuckled sardonically, shaking his head at her. "You are naive fool, Emily Burke. You call yourself an assassin but you are nothing more than a child playing a petty game in a world full of men."

A snarl built up in her throat and she launched herself forward, blades flicking out of the sheaths at her wrists. He grabbed her wrists and gave them a savage twist, pulling her arms behind her back and placing the tip of his knife at the small of her back. When she struggled against his hold, he slammed his knee into the back of hers and she went down. He knelt behind her, still holding her wrists in an iron grip. "I'll let you in on a little secret," he purred sadistically into her ear as she squirmed in discomfort.

"Go to hell!"

His raspy chuckle sent disgusted shivers down her spine. He ignored her growled 'get off of me', instead holding her tighter, as he moved closer to her. "Your order is full of corruption, you're simply too weak to see it. Your mentor has plans to break up the unity with the Templar Order as we speak."

Emily felt her world come crashing in. Nukilik was the traitor. He'd sent her here to get her out of the way so he could do what he wished. She didn't know what he was planning, though she was sure he was on his way to kill either Connor or Haytham. The two of them held the Order together and without them, who the hell knew what would become of the rest of them. Although intelligent, Johnson didn't have the leadership qualities needed to lead. Lee was dead. Church was dead. Pitcairn wasn't a leader. And there was no way in hell Hickey would ever take over the order. They'd be done, if not slaughtered by Nukilik.

"He sent you here to die, Emily Burke," jeered Sampson, sending her sprawling forward with a shove of his boot.

Emily hissed at the pain ricocheting away from the wound to her shoulder. She glanced back at him with hate in her eyes. "You're the only one who's going to die today," she snapped and sprang to her feet. As soon as she did, however, the world spun in circles around her. She stumbled to the side, putting her hands up at her temples. Everything felt distant, even that sardonic laugh fell across the air in a distorted echo. "What did you do to me…?" she gasped, swaying on her feet.

He favored his blade with a triumphant grin. "Poison, dearest Emily, poison." His grin widened as the color faded from her face. "I'll give you a choice though," he smirked. "The only way to find the antidote is to kill me."

"That can be arranged," she growled, stepping forward.

He held up a hand. "Or you can leave and stop Nukilik, save your Brotherhood and die a hero."

Her stomach twisted and she doubled over, vomiting blood onto the wood. With shaking legs, she pulled herself to her feet. She wiped the blood from her mouth, glaring at him. "I'll be back for you," she vowed. She stumbled to the door, pushing it open and tripping down the flight of stairs. She landed in a heap, a groan on her lips. She pulled herself up, legs trembling. Behind her, she heard Sampson telling his men to let her go, that the poison would end her before she made it within ten miles of Boston. She spat at the ground and moved as fast she could to her horse.

When she reached him, she threw herself into the saddle and spurred him into motion. "C'mon," she whispered, leaning low of his neck as her eyes fluttered. Sweat beaded down the side of her face and the world swayed dangerously. "Get me home," she murmured to her horse.

* * *

Thomas Hickey hardly made it thirteen feet before he heard a voice calling after him. Nukilik; damn that man to hell and back. Hickey gave the reins a quick jerk to the right to turn his horse around. He slowed to a trot and then to a stop as Nukilik came close. "What the 'ell?" questioned Hickey, glaring down at the big Mentor assassin.

"I don't care if we're united or not, you do not get to follow _my assassin_ on her mission. Now get off your damn horse," snapped the Inuit chief, crossing his big arms.

Hickey's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, sure thing _pops_ , whatevah ye say." He dismounted, and led the horse to the stables. He unsaddled the animal under Nukilik's glaring eye. The Templar had no trouble glaring right back at him.

He slunk back into the Green Dragon and lounged in the corner with a drink. Nukilik gave him one last glare and then left the inn. Hickey picked up his drink and drank deeply, asking for another as soon as he was done. It wasn't long after that he was passed out on the counter, hand still holding a drink. He had been planning to stay awake until Emily returned, though the drink and the late hour had gone to his head.

He awoke to a shake of his shoulder and his name being repeated over and over. His eyes flickered open to find Emily, pale faced and tired eyed, over him. "Wha….?" he yawned, only half awake.

"Hickey!" she exclaimed, though there was something off about the way she was speaking. Her words were sluggish, weak almost. "Hickey, get up. I need your help!" She gave his shoulders another powerful shake. He started to wave her off and tell her that he was awake when he saw the blood.

He sat up quickly. "You're bleedin'," he said, standing up and leaning in to look at how deep the wound was. She pushed him away and his eyebrows knitted. "Ye need t'get that looked at," he said but she shook her head. He went to speak but she beat him to it.

"No, Hickey," she said, exhaustion heavy in her voice. Her feet swayed and he caught her. Her eyelids fluttered. "We have to stop Nukilik," she breathed.

"Yer not goin' anywhere like this."

She pushed away from him, grabbing the chair for support as she moved back towards the door. "He's going to kill Haytham or Connor," she said, stumbling into the door and pushing it open. "We have to stop him." She staggered out into the morning air, grabbing onto her horse.

Hickey raced out after her. "Yer not goin' anywhere the way y'are," he said again, trying to catch her arm as she swung onto her horse. "What t'ell did that bastard do t'you?" he asked, danger in his voice.

"I'm not going to argue with you!" said Emily, a bit more strength in her voice. "We're going. And if you don't come with me, then I'll go alone." She turned into the street and spurred her horse into motion.

Hickey swore and ran to the horses tied at the inn gate. He mounted a black stallion in one smooth motion and was off after Emily. There was no way he was letting her do this alone. He didn't know what Sampson had done to her, and he didn't want to find out what would happen if she tried to go up against a full Master Assassin when she wasn't at full strength.

He reined up beside her, matching her speed. He glanced her way and frowned. She didn't look good at all. She looked like she'd been through hell and was still trying to get out of it. Her hair was windswept and knotted beneath her brown tricorne and her skin was pale beneath eyes that no longer shown.

"Dunno what he done t'ye," he said, a rare spark of genuine concern in his voice, "but ye ain't alright and ye gotta promise me ye'll be careful." She didn't so much as look at him, and he frowned, reaching over and putting his hand on her knee. "Emmy?"

She glanced at him with those tired eyes of hers and gave him a weak smile. "I promise," she whispered and brushed his hand away. "Let's just focus on the mission." She kicked her horse into a quicker pace, leaving Hickey to catch up to her.

* * *

Haytham was reading in the sitting room when Connor let someone in through the door. He glanced up at their muffled voices and stood up, leaving the book behind. He stretched his stiff muscles and went through the halls to see who was there. He came around the corner just as Connor led Nukilik into the kitchen. "Ah, Nukilik," greeted the former Grandmaster, reaching over and shaking the Mentor's hand.

Nukilik smiled at him and gave his hand a firm shake. "How are you faring?" he questioned, accepting the cup of tea that was handed to him by Connor, who glanced at Haytham and nodded at the kettle in questioning.

The eldest of the three of them shook his head at his son and turned back to Nukilik. "Well enough," he responded, dipping his head in thanks. "What brings you here?" asked Haytham, crossing his arms behind his back and regarding the assassin with his cool blue eyes.

The Master Assassin took a sip from his cup, taking a moment to answer. "Simply in the area," he responded with a shrug, taking another drink from his cup.

"Hm," mused Haytham, looking thoughtful. "That's strange, as I was specifically told by Connor that you would be out of the city for some time." He glanced at Connor for confirmation. His son gave a slow nod, his hand inching towards the knife he kept at his belt. "Were your plans canceled, assassin?" he questioned, turning back to Nukilik, his own hand at his flintlock. "Or do you have another agenda we were not previously aware of?" Their partnership had never been easy. Suspicion had always been thrown around. If Johnson and Connor spoke in low tones, they were organizing against the Assassins. If the Assassins refused to share intel, they were threatening the unity. In short, the road they walked had always been a rocky one, but Haytham had suspected Nukilik for some time. The former Grandmaster knew how much it hurt the pride of the Inuit that his Brotherhood conspired with Templars.

Nukilik sneered. "You think your _kind_ is so righteous," he snapped, eyes looking Haytham up and down, ignoring the daggers in the other male's eyes and the stance of readiness Connor had taken up. He slammed the cup back onto the table and took a menacing step towards Haytham, who remained stoic. "You have turned my Brotherhood against me!" Nukilik bellowed the words, grabbing Haytham by the collar and slamming him back into the wall, which did cause the elder a bit of pain, that he didn't show. He wouldn't allow the assassin that pleasure.

Connor stepped forward with danger glinting in his eyes, though stopped in his tracks when Haytham held up a hand to halt him. "Your Brotherhood has never fared better," replied Haytham in a voice cold enough to freeze the oceans. "Both our orders have prospered greatly from this alliance," he shoved Nukilik backwards, stepping close to him. "If I wished, I could slit your throat here and now, and claim self-defense. Your Brotherhood wouldn't so much as bat an eye." Each word sharp with careful calculation and ice, though everything about Haytham was a mask of calmness. Only his eyes, which blazed like fire, showed his true emotions.

"I could claim the same," Nukilik threatened, hand pulling his short sword from his belt, causing Haytham's eyes to narrow in bitter laughter.

"You cannot hope to match me, assassin," he returned, flipping out his hidden blade, in more in a way of warning than anything else. He didn't want to fight the other male, though would without hesitation if forced.

Connor, finally tiring of standing at the sidelines, stepped forward. "Leave, now," he said, "before I retract the offer." He had his pistol pulled and ready to bring Nukilik down should he need to.

Nukilik snarled and threw himself forward, grabbing Haytham and swinging him around so that the former Grandmaster was in front of Nukilik, blocking his own body with Haytham's and therefore preventing Connor from taking the shot. The Inuit slashed his short sword and Haytham narrowly dodged to the right, yelling at Connor to fetch him his blade. As Connor moved off, Nukilik lunged forward. Haytham sprang backwards, taking note of how Nukilik fought; with anger. He was a large man, with bulky shoulders and a muscled chest, but he was slow and his movements would be hindered by both his bulk and the anger roaring through him.

Another lung forward, found Haytham darting forward and attempting to slide his hidden blade through Nukilik's rib cage. The bigger man slammed his right elbow down into Haytham's back, causing the elder to shout and stumble out of harm's reach. He shouted his son's name, pain shooting up and down his spine.

"Father!"

Haytham turned and caught the hilt of the rapier that was tossed his way, swishing it through the air to meet Nukilik's short sword. The heavier sword slammed down against Haytham's thinner sword and he tensed his legs to keep up as much pressure as he could. He shoved upwards and sliced diagonally, his rapier slashing into Nukilik's sword hand. The bigger man shouted, sword clattering to the ground. Haytham slammed his shoulder into Nukilik's chest, pushing him hard against the wall.

Nukilik threw his knee upwards and Haytham doubled over. The Inuit assassin shoved the Templar backwards, punching him once in the face and then again in the gut. Haytham, though in immense pain, slashed with his rapier. Nukilik dodged and grabbed hold of Haytham's left arm, giving it a firm twist. Haytham's wrist snapped and he cried out, pulling it against his chest. Nukilik kicked the rapier from Haytham's hand and dragged him forward, slamming his knee into Haytham's gut and his fist down against his spine. The assassin spun behind him and kicked the former Grandmaster to the ground.

 _BANG! BANG!_

Nukilik froze, stunned. He stared down at the bullet hole in his chest and the other at his gut. Blood leaked down his front, soaking into the thick woolen Assassin robes he wore. Connor, from the other side of the room, looked faintly confused until he glanced towards the now open door and saw Emily leaning against the wall, panting, with a smoking musket in her hands. Hickey was at her side, taking the musket from her arms and placing his hands at her shoulders. He said something to her, that Connor didn't catch as he turned back to his father's had slid to the floor, his head forward against his chest and blood still soaking into the garments that he no longer deserved.

The current Templar Grandmaster knelt before the Assassin Mentor, pity in his dark eyes. "It is a shame Nukilik, that you traveled down this dark path," he said, calmly. "Your Brotherhood will recover from the fall from grace you nearly caused them. They will continue to work side by side with my Order. Had your pride taken such a hit that you could not bare to see us united in one simple goal?"

Nukilik spat blood at Connor's face, who didn't so much as flinch. "Your Order," he hissed, "is an abomination to this Earth and should be wiped of its surface. We were triumphant and strong without your grime tainting our Creed."

"You've long since striving for a realistic goal."

"Freedom is the on the minds of every soul in Boston, fool."

"Free is never truly free," replied Connor, "to succeed you must compromise. Everyone must compromise. I have learned this. Had you been allowed to complete your mission today, your Brotherhood may have suffered a thousand years in vein. You nearly destroyed all you once fought for."

"What do you know of what we have fought for, boy?"

"Once, you fought for peace and if I allow you to live, that dream would be distorted and corrupted." His blade _shinged_ out of his wrist. "May peace find you in the next life," he said before plunging the blade into the Assassin's heart and watching the life ebb out of Nukilik's eyes. He felt a hand at his shoulder and he glanced up into the bloodied face of his father, who was wearing an expression full of something Connor didn't remember seeing there before; pride.

"'Elp me!" came Hickey's shout from the doorway and Connor turned in time to see the Irishman catch Emily as she fainted to the side.

Haytham, wiping blood from his face, moved over. "She's been poisoned," he said, taking in her pale skin and bleeding nose.

"We'll take her to Abner," said Connor at once.

Hickey shook his head. "Dunno if Abner's gunna be able t'do much," he said, "her damned Mentor sent her after Sampson. 'E musta poisoned her."

Haytham swore and took a few steps and then glanced back at Emily lying in Hickey's arms. "You'll need to get the antidote," he said. "Connor, help Hickey get her to a bed and then go with him to hunt down Sampson." When he finished speaking, Haytham collapsed into one of the chairs, his body slowly becoming a mess of bruises, dark paint splotches across his skin.

Connor gave his father a long look before nodding and doing as he was asked. When the two finally came back down the stairs, Connor helped his father up the stairs so he could keep watch of Emily. Promising to send over Abner to stall the progression of the poison, Connor exited the house and walked out into the street.

"Emmy wouldn't want us t'kill 'im," voiced Hickey as Connor mounted his stallion and they took off.

Connor's eyes narrowed. "She wouldn't?" he asked, glancing Hickey's way.

"Naw. She'd wanna do 'im 'erself."

Connor made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat, though said no more as they galloped towards New York.

* * *

She'd been waiting for this moment since the day he stabbed her through the shoulder.

Connor and Hickey had been successful in their trip to receive the antidote, though had definitely been cutting it close. Abner had administered the antidote that saved Emily Burke's life, though Hickey's was the first face she saw when she opened her eyes. The first thing she asked had been if Sampson was dead. She was quite pleased when Hickey and Connor replied that they had not 'done 'im in'.

Now she stood over him, his own pistol balanced in her hand. "You can't kill the Assassins," she taunted him, a triumphant smirk on her lips as she pulled the trigger and the gun kicked her hand. She blew the smoke away from the muzzle and replaced it in her belt. She knelt and closed his eyes. "Rest in peace," she stood up, "you bastard."

She walked out the door into the snow flakes and to Thomas Hickey's side. Since Nukilik's death, a new Mentor had been proclaimed. This mentor was young, blonde hair and a tomboy since ten. She wore a brown tricorne and her weapon of choice was a musket with a bayonet at the end. The rules had been altered slightly since she took her position. This mentor didn't care which Order you came from. She didn't care whether you had the vision of an eagle or wore the red cross. She cared that they could find a new way to survive through the centuries. To those that didn't know her name, she was simply referred to as 'The Pioneer', though to most her name was Emily Burke.

To one, she was Emmy.


End file.
